#but it feels like very dangerous territory if the direction is

[aha-chuu]

I'm glaring at Hoyo so fucking hard rn, if they do the stupid stupid trope of fridging the female love interest to further male character arcs and then they double down on being so misogynistic about it that it's kinda gay but!! No, actually!!! And then if the whole central love interest turns out to be literally a child rn -

[avatar-anna]

this is very unedited, and i'm like half asleep as i write this, but a Horan!sister reader has been in the back of my mind recently (mostly bc i miss one direction and maybe bc i saw niall live a couple weeks ago) anyway, enjoy!

"We...We, um, we kissed."

"Yeah. We did."

"But we're—we're friends."

"I know."

"Are you freaking out? I feel like you're not freaking out enough," you said as you paced the length of your hotel room.

Harry, who sat on his bed, the one mere feet from yours, shrugged. "I don't see a need to, honestly."

You couldn't believe how nonchalant he was being. You and Harry had never expressed any romantic feelings for each other. You'd known each other for ages, and of course you thought he was attractive—who wouldn't?—but that was it. There were never any heated glances, no longing gazes while the other wasn't looking, no hugs that lasted too long to be anything other than friendly. You were friends, nothing more, and what had just happened changed everything.

Unless...

"You're right," you found yourself saying. "It was just a heat of the moment thing. We—We just got excited, that's all."

You were ready for Harry to agree with you. You were ready to agree to forget about the kiss, to never mention it again, pretend it never happened. That was the only logical option in your mind, unless you wanted to throw years of friendship down the drain. You didn't want to be a cliche, and you didn't think Harry wanted to either.

Plus, there was the other thing, but you didn't want to even think about that right now.

"Did we?" Harry asked. He looked amused as he tracked your movements, one hand playing with his bottom lip as if he was trying to cover up a smile.

"What do you mean—Of course we did. You're you and I—and he—Stop looking at me like that!"

This time, Harry didn't even try to hide his grin, dimples set deep in his cheeks as he laughed. "Like what?"

"Like you—" Like you want to sleep with me, you thought but didn't say. That was even more dangerous territory. "Like you don't regret what we did."

"We kissed, Y/n, we didn't kill someone," Harry said.

Right, you thought. This was normal for Harry. He probably didn't think twice about it because he was constantly kissing people. Well, not constantly, but definitely more than you did. Your brother made sure of that.

"You're right, sorry," you said. "So we'll just forget it happened then, right? We can just go back to—"

"Hold on a minute, I didn't say that."

For the first time since you kissed him, you looked at Harry directly. "Excuse you?"

"I don't regret what happened," Harry said, standing up slowly. "Do you?"

"Yes! I mean we're friends, and your best friend is—"

"Let's leave that out of the equation. Just for a second," he said. For every step he took toward you, you took one back. "That wasn't just in the heat of the moment, Y/n. I think we both know that."

"It—It was. We were celebrating and got carried away—"

"See, I'd believe you if you hadn't used tongue."

"You used tongue first!"

"And you moaned."

"It was a sound of surprise from the use of said tongue!"

Harry took another step closer, and once your back hit the wall, you had nowhere left to go. He was close enough that you could smell his cologne, sweet and a little smoky. His eyes were intense as they stared down at you, expression unreadable as he looked you up and down.

Since you met him, Harry had been hard to read. He was naturally quiet, never giving much away unless he was more than a few drinks in. Not to mention the first few years of knowing him that you'd gotten to know each other more. You only knew him through your brother, who was more than happy to stick you with the annoying little sister role, despite only being a year younger than him.

There was a point in time where you might've had a crush on Harry. You remembered watching him on TV at night and liking his voice and his smile and curly hair. Your brother had gone and ruined it of course when you met for the first time, teasing you about said crush, and you went so out of your way to convince everyone that you didn't that you succeeded perhaps a little too well. But now you knew Harry better. He wasn't some boy who sang on television anymore. Well, he was, but he was so much more than that now, his fame growing wild and beyond anything you could comprehend.

"Was it a bad kiss?" he asked suddenly.

That was a question you didn't expect. "What? N—No, it was fine—"

"Fine? Just fine?" Harry repeated. "What's a guy got to do to be better than fine?"

"That's not what matters!" you said, growing exasperated. "It should never have happened in the first place. You're my brother's best friend, you're—you're his bandmate!"

Niall had an embarrassing amount of rules when it came to you and his friends. Not that you thought they were ever really necessary, though now you weren't so sure. Half the boys were already in relationships anyway, and Harry was...well, he was Harry. As long as you'd known him, he'd never had a long term relationship. You didn't know why, and you were never close enough to him to ask. But the more famous he, and One Direction, became, the more...larger than life he seemed. Or maybe it was that you were in the perpetual space of being Niall's little sister that you'd just automatically written him off as someone who wouldn't be interested in you.

Either way, whatever was happening now was nerve-inducing. And scary. And making you feel things you weren't sure you wanted to feel.

"Is there an area I could improve in? Like specifically? Or was it the overall kiss that was mediocre? I'm really trying to wrap my head around this," he said. "Not to be rude, but I normally don't get many complaints."

"How are you being so—so unbothered right now?" you asked.

"I don't know, I just know that I liked kissing you," Harry said with a shrug. "And that I'd like to do it again. If not for the sake of kissing you then to at least improve from fine to enjoyable."

"Oh my God, the kiss was better than fine, okay? It was probably the best kiss I've had in a while. Best kisser in all of London. You're a proper Casanova," you admitted with a huff, knowing Harry wouldn't let that one detail go. "Happy?"

"Very. So...want to do it again?"

"No!"

"Why?"

Was he whining? "Because—"

"Okay, all of the stuff about your brother and my bandmate and how this probably isn't a stellar idea aside, you can't tell me you don't want to," he said. His eyes searched yours, looking for an answer in them before you said it. "I meant what I said, Y/n. I don't tend to do things I'll regret, and I don't regret kissing you."

That face, you thought. It was too beautiful, too distracting to make you think straight. Harry was all sharp angles and high cheekbones and long hair now, it wasn't fair. You didn't stand a chance against it all. Especially when his big green eyes almost seemed to plead with yours.

Deep down—maybe not even that deep, quite shallow, actually—you knew you enjoyed the kiss too, and not just because Harry was objectively good at it. It was him, it was the pesky feelings that erupted and took root inside you when you first slid your lips against his. Perhaps the kiss had started out as a heat of the moment thing—an overemotional celebration after watching a particularly intense football match after running into each other in London. You were there on holiday and he was home during his time off. You found yourselves spending they say together, finding comfort in each other's familiarity.

You'd never meant to spend the whole day with him, you'd never meant to invite him to your room to watch football and order room service, you'd never meant to kiss him after a goal scored. Yet you did, and you had, and it was hard to cross back over to ignorance and bliss when you knew what it felt like to have Harry's lips on yours.

"We can't tell him," you said. "Not yet. Not until we know what we're doing. He'll kill you."

"I know," Harry said, his fingers coming up to play with a strand of your hair. "When do you go back home?"

"In a few days, but—Fuck."

"What? Changed your mind already?"

"No, I just—I'm coming with you. On tour," you said, eyes widening. "It was Niall's graduation gift to me. Some time off traveling before I get a job and everything."

"Okay, well that's—that's an obstacle for a few days from now. Let's just—unless you don't want to anymore—I mean, I can go if—"

"Who's nervous now?" you teased.

"Not nervous, just being extra sure. Got a lot to live up to, being the best kisser in the world and everything."

"Pretty sure I said London."

"Pretty sure we don't need to debate it anymore," Harry said, bringing your arms up to wrap around his neck. "You can just kiss me now instead."

The movement felt almost too natural, his hair soft beneath your fingertips as you leaned in, putting you both out of misery and kissing him for the second time.

It was just as good, if not better than the first time you kissed him earlier. Harry's lips were incredibly soft, gentle but sure. Your body molded perfectly against his, feeling light as his hands roamed up and down your back, through your hair, on your hips. You felt those same butterflies from before, the ones that told you you might be feeling more than just lust, but you batted that thought away.

It was way too early to be entertaining those thoughts. You wanted to just enjoy the moment, go with the flow and not lose yourself in he-loves-me-he-loves-me-not. So you pulled him closer, sealed your tongue against Harry's bottom lip, and savored the flavor of his mouth on yours, letting it drown you until you could think about anything else but him.

"We're gonna have fun on tour, I think," Harry breathed, his voice coming out in shallow pants as you kissed along his jaw and up the shell of his ear.

There were a million reasons why you shouldn't, but they all floated away as Harry hoisted you up into his arms, your legs moving instinctively around his waist, leaving just him and a very easy and resounding yes. Your answer came in the form of kissing him once more, your hands tugging eagerly on his hair until every doubt and question was a distant memory.

[francis-writes]

Hiii! can i request what feyd would do if he gets jealous/possessive of his wife/partner? i just have a feeling that he would go absolutely feral. thank you sm! after dune 2 ive been searching her feyd stories everywhere!

READER IS GENDER NEUTRAL

A/N: thanks! I had crush on him since i read the book but now fortunately there is much more about him. I am still obsessed with him but for next week I may publish less often because of university and personal stuff

First of all, you're absolutely right. Not that Feyd is self-conscious. He thinks about himself as a perfect partner, a main prize, so he isn't afraid that you would find someone better than him.

But it doesn't change the fact that he doesn't like the idea of you being out of his control or someone else seducing you. (He trusts you but there's never enough caution, world is full of dangers; also with his position it is possible that someone could try to take you away just to get a revenge on Feyd)

I already wrote a scenario where somebody flirted with his crush and lemme tell you, nothing changes when Feyd is in established relationship. If anything, he only gets more possesive.

Of course, there are many different possible scenarios. His reaction depends on whether there's actual reason to worry or he just has suspicions, whether somebody flirts with you or just gets to close to you, whether it's a stranger, an acquaintance, a family. Is it a noble, a common person etc. But lets just speak about some possibilities

If you were somewhere in public, perhaps on some official party, and Feyd notices that somebody is flirting with you, he quickly drops whatever he's doing and comes to you. Keeping his calm posture, he joins the conversation and makes sure to emphasize that you're HIS partner and you aren't looking for anybody else. Feyd keeps his arm around your waist, starts talking about how happy you are together (constatly repeating "MY love", "MY spouse", "OUR family" etc). He's not that much into PDA and being soft publicly but he kissess you as hungrily and as long as possible. People on the party feel a bit awkward but the point is made.

If potential rival is going to far with their advances and acts too bold, or if it's a less public situation (for example a common afternoon in Harkonnen's residency) then it's very likely that Feyd would use violence, perhaps treating that person like he treated Rabban in the movie (throwing him on the floor and forcing to lick Feyd's boots), no matter the status of that person (unless it would be Emperor himself... I think). Maybe instead of boot-licking (or in addition to it), he would force them to admit that you're Feyd's and they had no right to mess with his possesions (even if your relationship is pretty healthy, Feyd still treats you as his possesion and he's very territorial)

Or maybe if somebody flirts with you more subtly, there's a possibility that Feyd will fuck you in a near room so everybody knows what happen because 1. He knows how to make you scream 2. It's pretty obvious from your disheveled look later. And this can happen no matter whether the flirt happened on a party (and all the nobles have to wittness this little show) or on a common day (and the only recipient of this show is his rival and maybe some poor servants).

When there's no direct threat to your relationship, he still acts pretty possesive. Feyd likes to know where and how do you spend your day (though he really likes if you spend your time with him and if you're interested, he engages you into his duties and takes to fight trainings). He wants you to inform him about your plans and he may or may not make sure that servants observe you. It isn't spying. It's just curiosity and making sure that you're safe.

Also. If Feyd was going to fight with somebody and that person acted the same way as he did with Paul and Chani ("Who is the little one, a pet perhaps? Will she deserve my special attentions?"), Feyd would be fucking livid (kinda hypocritical but that's what we love him for). That person wouldn’t survive to see the next day. And if he left them alive, it would be only to torture them and teach them how messing with his close ones ends.

[blakeswritingimagines]

Dating Yandere Superman Would Include:

As a Yandere he loves deeply and would do almost anything to protect you even if it ends up with someone getting hurt. He can be violent and can be obsessive and possessive but the one thing that defines him is how much he loves you.

He can be quite possessive and jealous. He might stalk you or even physically intimidate you. He would also likely have unhealthy coping mechanisms such as stalking, obsessing, and even violence.

He wants your affection and needs to be close to you always being with you and holding you. Anyone who comes near you or your friends will feel his presence and his desire to claim you as his.

He tends to be violent and unpredictable sometimes he's not himself as a Yandere, he hurts others because he sees them as threats or obstacles getting in his way of love. He would do anything to 'protect' you at all costs even if it’s unethical and wrong.

He can be controlling and paranoid. He tends to believe if he lets you out of his sight that someone else will steal you away or worse. He has a habit of trying to keep tabs on you and making sure you are alright even if that includes tapping into your things.

He can be manipulative to get his way. But he does love and care for you deep down. If you don't like him anymore or if you move on from him, he's capable of becoming unstable and not taking it well and he can become very dangerous to himself.

He can be both clingy and possessive. He would go as far as hurting himself just to make you worry about him. He can be very impulsive and unpredictable. He has no problem destroying or getting rid of anything or anyone that stands in the way of his love.

He is a devoted, possessive lover with a penchant for violent outbursts. He loves intensely, hates with every fiber of his being, and will do anything to ensure that your interest remains his. His violent outbursts tend to be targeted towards those whom he considers a threat to his love for you, though he has been known to direct it inward at himself as well.

He enjoys spending time alone with the person he loves, and enjoys taking care of you. He can be very controlling, demanding that you follow his rules and desires, and becoming enraged when his authority is challenged. He sees no problem using guilt trips and emotional blackmail to get his way.

Before getting together, once he sets his sights on you he feels as if he's a hopeless romantic and can be rather manipulative when it comes to acquiring and maintaining said love. He's not above using his powers of seduction to ensnare hearts, and he can be quite persistent in his efforts to convince you to return his feelings.

He is loyal, protective, and extremely territorial. His obsessive love and possessive nature can manifest in a variety of ways, making him both an exhilarating and dangerous romantic partner.

He will do anything and everything to ensure that you never leave him, even if it means using less-than-honorable methods. He is deeply insecure and often takes this out on those around him. His violent outbursts can be unpredictable and sometimes even unprovoked. He tends to be controlling and manipulative, using guilt trips and other psychological tactics to ensure that you stay with him. On the bright side, he is extremely devoted and faithful to you and will go to extraordinary lengths to please you.

When he's on a date with you, he is obsessed with being with you alone, having your attention solely for himself, and making sure that you enjoy your time together. You are the only one he cares about and he wants you to feel as special as you make him feel. He will take you to your favorite restaurants, activities, or just anywhere you would like to go. He doesn't let anyone or anything get in the way of your time together.

Affection for you is his absolute life and essence. He will be overwhelmingly sweet and tender to you, showering you with endless hugs and kisses. He will be your safe haven and never let you go. He will do everything in his power to make you happy and make sure you never have to want for anything else. He will never stop loving you.

If you were to try and leave him, he would not allow it. He would hunt you down and bring you back by any means necessary. You are his, he feels you have no right to leave him and you have no right to be happy anywhere but in his arms.

Punishment to you is something that he will never do, as you are perfect in his eyes and deserve nothing but the best. However, if you were to act against his wishes, he would find ways to make up for your misdeed with endless pampering and affection. However, if someone were to harm or try to hurt you, he would spare no time and exact a harsh punishment on whoever dared to threaten you.

Punishment for those who try to harm or cause any ill will towards you would be swift and harsh. He would not stop until whoever was responsible for such a deed was dead and gone.

Rewards for you would involve constant love, affection, and pampering, but with a touch of domination. You will be treated like royalty and given everything he has to offer, but you will also be reminded, in many subtle ways, that you belong to him and it would be foolish for you to forget it.

His marriage to his soulmate would be a glorious affair, a day he has dreamed of and looked forward to for his entire life or at when he met you. He would make sure that every detail was perfect, down to the last decoration. The passionate love and joy he would feel would reverberate throughout the world and light the skies with shining brightness. He would devote his entire self to making the day as special and joyful as possible, and his love for you would be the focal point of it all.

Hair-pulling: He likes pulling and playing with your hair during sex or foreplay.

Rough Play: He likes it when things get kinky and wild, with elements of aggressiveness and dominance.

Power Exchange: He likes it when you give him control over you, allowing him to tell you what to do and how to behave.

Voyeurism: He enjoys watching you perform in front of him, such as stripping or performing some sort of sexual act.

Humiliation: He likes it when you degrade him in some way, making him feel embarrassed or humiliated and smaller.

[ghostboneswrites2]

part one

obsession

series masterlist .. masterlist .. taglist

warnings - mentions and descriptions of violence and gore, mentions of racism (Merle), feelings of paranoia, profanity

idle hands

A man of few words often had little to say, but never had he truly been rendered speechless the way he was when you arrived at the quarry.

It wasn’t your best of days, but you were captivating nonetheless. Even when it was littered with abrasions and bruises, your face was just so perfectly framed by the mess of unkempt hair, and even though your eyes were dressed in dark bags and layers of terror, they were brilliant. Simply put, you were a disaster of the most beautiful kind, and Daryl knew the moment he laid eyes on you that he was wading upstream, knee-deep in shit’s creek.

That was back in the beginning, when walking corpses and unimaginable gore were still new territories for most people. You were shaken up from the events that led you to this new group of people in the first place. Back then, you were more human; still affected so deeply by loss. Watching your family die left you vulnerable, malleable, terrified. With the constant threat of pain and death looming over you, your mind was sharper. Constantly balancing along that thin line between fight or flight.

That day, though — the day you met him — you discovered a new fear response: fawn.

The second your eyes befell him, you froze. Your pupils wide, gulping dryly in the Georgian sun, time came to a stop as you took in the site. There was something unsettling about him. He didn’t just see you, he studied you. You could practically feel him soaking you in, memorizing every detail. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was about him that made you squirm. Maybe it was his narrow slits where his eyes should have been, tracking your movements, or his large frame reminding you just how weak you really were in a man-eat-man world.

Luckily for you, he didn’t spend much time around camp. He was a hunter — fitting, you thought — and he was usually off in the trees somewhere.

Though, despite him being out of sight, he rarely left your mind at ease. His eyes left a lingering impression on your flesh. You could always feel the chill of his cool gaze tracing over you. As you worked around camp or tried to keep cool from the sun, you constantly glanced over at the forest in any direction. You felt as if he’d be standing there, watching you. You never saw him there at the edge of the woods like you anticipated, but you always wondered if he was still there, lurking deeper in the in the shadows, beyond your line of sight.

He quickly instilled a sense of paranoia in you. You always watched for him, always hoping he’d be there despite the sense of danger his presence alone caused you.

The others around the quarry began to worry for you. They noticed the way you’d shrink away when he walked past, they felt you physically recoil. The Dixons had a reputation. Whether it be back home where they wreaked havoc on the locals, or there at the quarry where those they terrified relied on them too much to get rid of them. They worried for someone like you, very clearly and quickly becoming the target of the younger, quieter Dixon.

You supposed it could have been worse — right? At least it wasn’t the asshole cop with a fetish for widows, or the older Dixon spouting racist idiocy at the drop of a hat. All things considered, you were fed, clothed, and you even had your own tent. Comparatively speaking, you were probably better off than most people in Georgia, or, maybe even the entire USA. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

“Y/N.” Shane interrupted your thoughts. “Ya got an extra pair of hands you could lend to the girls down by the water?”

You glanced down at the hands in question, folded idly on your lap as you rested for the first time in days. Since your arrival at camp, Shane had been very clear about having another mouth to feed, and how you needed to earn your keep. So, every day, you crawled out of your tent, stretched your aching muscles, and found a new task to occupy your time. Yesterday, it was sewing the holes in everyone’s clothes. The day before, it was repairing fishing lines. Before that, gathering wood and boiling water. You had hoped today would be the day you got to take a break, just like everyone else got a day to rest every now and then. Hell, even the Dixons didn’t hunt every single day.

“I guess.” You shrugged, groaning as you pushed yourself up to your feet and brushed the dust from your jeans.

“Guesswork ain’t puttin’ food in your belly.” Shane retorted. “Go on now.” He concluded with a pat on your shoulder. You clenched your jaw as his hand made contact with your shirt, struggling to contain the scowl that begged to show.

Down by the water, the ladies were chatting casually, dunking garments in and out of the water as they did. All of the women were there, save for Lori, who conveniently managed to evade laundry duty every time. You wondered if it had anything to do with the previously mentioned asshole cop and his fetish for widows.

“Shane sent you down?” Carol wondered, squinting up at you as she wiped sweat from her face.

“I told him we had it covered.” Andrea added.

“It’s okay.” You shrugged, sitting down on your knees at the edge of the water. “I had an extra pair of hands.”

“Idle hands are the devil’s instrument.” Jacqui said as she wrung out the shirt she had just washed.

“That is what they say.” Carol agreed.

“Please.” Andrea snorted. “That’s just a saying some old men made up so we wouldn’t play with ourselves.”

Everyone paused and looked at her then. She glanced around at everyone and shrugged.

“What?” She asked defensively. “It only takes a few minutes to realize we’re better off doing it ourselves.”

You all snickered at that, finding little reason to argue.

“That goes for a lot of things.” Jacqui said.

“Yup. Laundry, dishes, dinner… If you want it done right, you do it yourself.” Carol commented.

As the ladies carried on with their domestic complaints of men being useless in just about every job description that doesn’t include brute strength, your mind wandered elsewhere. Your eyes scanned over the water as you mindlessly scrubbed smelly jeans. Their voices became distant and distorted. Images of rotting teeth displayed behind your eyelids every time you blinked — tearing into your sister’s flesh, ripping her apart, eating her alive. If you listened closely, you could hear her scream. You could see your dad reach out for her, arm stretching into the horde of death. You could see them grab him too. You could feel their cold fingers wrap around his arm and pull him in. You could smell their blood.

“Y/N?” Amy snapped her fingers in front of your face. You blinked, realizing all five of them were watching you with worry. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “Yeah, just… Tired.” You assured them.

“Well, no wonder.” Carol mumbled. “Been here eight days and haven’t taken not one break. You need rest.”

“Shane wants me to earn my keep.” You reminded her.

“You’ve been earning it just fine.” She argued. “You do more around here than he does for Pete’s sake. Just cause what we do doesn’t look hard doesn’t mean it’s not hard work.”

“Preaching to the choir.” Jacqui scoffed. “Women have been saying that since the beginning of time. The men protect and hunt, we do everything else. Everything.”

Between the six of you — Carol, Jacqui, Amy, Andrea, Mrs.Morales, and you — the laundry only took about an hour. None of you were complaining, as you’d all seen it take a full day before with less hands on deck. For a small camp of people who had to leave behind everything they’d ever worked toward, you all sure knew how to rack up some dirty laundry. Then again, with this heat, maybe you were glad that hygiene was still a priority.

You skipped lunch that day, as the pickings were slim as it was already and you figured the kids needed it more. You instead decided to retire to your tent for a quick nap before Shane came around again with some obscure task for you to complete.

Surprisingly, nobody bothered to wake you that afternoon, or that night. By the time you woke, most people were asleep. Someone had left you a tin can full of stew from dinner that night outside your tent. You figured it was Carol, as she was the most likely to care enough to do so. You scarfed down the cold leftovers viciously before you stumbled down to the quarry to wash up.

A lot of the women tended to bathe at the same time, as a way to look out for each other, but you’d overslept so you’d just have to make it quick.

Your clothes clung to your wet skin as you redressed yourself. You squeezed excess water out of your hair as you wandered back to camp. The night was quiet, except for Ed’s snoring. You wondered how the walkers hadn’t found you all here yet. You were sure his snores echoed all the way down to the city.

You took a seat on the steps of the RV, folding your hands together in your lap as you stared at the remaining embers of the campfire. It was a rule to keep flames low, even when it was cold. You sort of didn’t mind. The glowing ashes resembled twinkling stars if you squinted hard enough.

Your thoughts began to take over as they often did while you remained fixated on the remnants of a dead fire. A distant rustling caught your ear. You struggled to adjust your eyes to the dark, scanning in the direction of the noise until two figures emerged from the trees. Quickly you realized it was Daryl, sneaking off into the woods in the middle of the night. You weren’t sure if he noticed you there.

You wondered what he could have been doing. Surely hunting in the dark was no easy feat, so what was he up to? You glanced back down at your lap, where your hands sat idly, folded together.

“Idle hands are the devil’s instrument.” You whispered to yourself as you fingers twitched. You had a choice or make that night. Funny how those old sayings often rendered true. Had you not been sitting there with nothing else to do, maybe you wouldn’t have made the decision you made. Maybe things would have been different.

tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck @duffmckagansbandana @celtic-crossbow @virginsexgod69 @dazzling-roaring-20s @l0kilaufeys0n7 @uhnanix @superbowlisgay @liizzygrant @eddiemunsonsupremecy @raeraegoaway @ophelialaufey @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfsalltheway

[blednokrov]

I've been having lots of fun designing random OP fusions for a hypothetical AU where people can fuse... Feel free to drop a combo of any two Strawhats in my asks for me to draw a fusion of them (I'm only reading impel down rn so please no spoilers)

More on these:

Mickey (Nami + Franky) - ultimate Big Sibling fusion. She's very balanced in her sense of responsibility, desire to take other under her wing and general "fun but let's keep it sane and safe" vibe. One of favorite fusions of Strawhats as her appearance often means "supervised fun that is otherwise strongly off limits" and they just love her in general. Overall, Mickey's cool, fun and sexy (and not allowed in many public places because she only wears bikini swimsuits). He fights with electrocution.

Didja miss me? Well, now you can look at my pretty face all you want - we're gonna have so-o-o much fun~

U.V. or just Violet (Usopp + Vivi) - the big dreamer one. She is really sweet and emotionally open - probably one of most child-like fusions, but often gets timid and unsure when it's time for her to to stand up for herself. She loves fantasizing and excitedly ranting about all these ideas on how to make world a better place, but goes into very absurd territory without noticing. They fight with a sling and explosives.

No, wait, but listen. But what if The World Government, like, printed money so that everyone can have some, and- No, wait, i don't think this is how economy works. Okay, what if we all just...

Roro (Zoro + Robin) - arguably the most unhinged fusion of them all. With Robin's morbidly creative mind and Zoro's general disinhibition in most generally dangerous situations, Roro is pretty much unstoppable once he set his mind to do something reckless, dangerous and possibly really violent (as they both don't have any qualms about murdering or causing severe bodily harm). However when not in "focused on following through with an insane idea" mode, Roro is actually a rather pleasant company! They're calm, collected and thoughtful, yet shamelessly silly, especially with Luffy and Chopper who they adore. Most of the crew is rather cautious about them (except for Luffy who whines how he misses playing "multiarmed tags" with Roro) because they can cause much trouble without supervision. On the other hand, they're very strong. They fight combining swordfighting with generating extra limbs (which also means an arm slashing you with a sword can sneak on you from any direction).

Oh. I see. How about we send his head- okay, his fingers in a box to his captain as a warning?

Note: Luffy has the privilege of naming all fusions and usually just smashes names together until it sounds like an easy to remember name... Sometimes inner logic of how the name was made is lost even to him

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Jay Kuo for Think Big Picture:

We’re all still grieving the electoral loss and feeling queasy about the prospect of Trump returning to the White House in January. But in response to the giddy pronouncements from the GOP and the Trump campaign, some have already begun to think about an effective political resistance to Trump and Trumpism. 

Democrats need to make these plans knowing full well that Trump will be backed by a sycophantic GOP Congress and blank check-writing SCOTUS. And this time around, there won’t be any adults in the room, including White House counsel who during his first term would quietly shelve Trump’s most outrageous requests, or chiefs of staff like John Kelly who would struggle to moderate, educate and soften his most extreme positions. No, this time around Trump will be surrounded by people even further to the right of him. They will seek to implement the most dangerous and destructive of policies, many drawn from the Project 2025 blueprint. And they will encourage Trump to issue Executive Orders that could reshape American democracy, insert our armed forces deeply into civil affairs, hurtle our economy into an abyss, and upend the lives of millions of minorities.

This is a thought piece, an early stab (and work in progress) about how Democrats (and the lawyers who are aligned with them) can ready themselves to resist Trump. We’re in very new territory here, but the ideas are based on what we’ve learned about Trump from both his first term and the four years he’s been more or less idle when he wasn’t sitting in courtrooms or stumping on the campaign trail. They play into both his ego and the worst aspects of his character and leadership style. I hope you find this early exploration a good starting point for how the next four years could go if Democrats play their cards smartly, even if the strategy seems highly unorthodox. Note that I won’t be discussing what average citizens might consider doing. This, for now, is the beginning of a political and legal strategy. Others involved in grassroots organizing may have ideas for direct resistance by citizens, but that is for another discussion.

[...]

Hit ‘em with lawfare

One of the most effective weapons against Trump’s policies during his first term was the slew of lawsuits that his executive orders met when they were first announced. Remember the Muslim ban? That bounced up and down the courts for years before it could finally go into effect in a watered-down form. 

Lawyers from every non-profit walk of life should be readying civil complaints today, just as people like Russ Vought are already preparing horrific executive orders for Trump to sign. The minute Trump announces his Day One policy to deport millions of undocumented migrants, for example, lawyers everywhere should file suit. It shouldn’t just be one suit; it should be several. Tie up the White House lawyers and the Trump Justice Department with as many cognizable claims as they can think of. More than the sheer number, they should file these cases before judges in jurisdictions where the appellate courts will be more friendly, such as in the Ninth Circuit. This is the inverse of what MAGA and Christian Nationalist legal counsel have been doing now for years by picking a single court near Amarillo, Texas to ensure their cases are heard before radical judge Matthew Kacsmaryk.

Once those cases are filed, judges (and their clerks) should slow-walk them. Act like the nun in The Sound Of Music, opening the gate as slowly as she can so the Nazis are delayed. Then, after issuing temporary restraining orders, set the hearings out as far as possible. Have the lawyers demand extensions. File motions that could receive interlocutory appeals, to further gum things up. In short, drag things out as long as possible to prevent his policies from going into effect. Governors in blue border states could also get involved. California and Arizona both have Democratic governors, after all. And they also have Democratic state attorneys general. These states could move to intervene in suits or file them on their own, just as the red states have done to block Biden’s policies like student debt relief. Sure, this will eventually get up to the Supreme Court and get overturned, but the point is delay. Run out the clock, run out the clock, run out the clock. Trump only gets four years, two before the midterms. [...]

These are but a few broad-stroke ideas, but it’s time everyone who will be part of the resistance start thinking about how they can play a vital part in pushing back. Some of these tactics are admittedly unorthodox, others quite petty. Still others are variations on what has worked well before. Together, they could bog down or distract Trump and the White House just long enough for the midterms to give Democrats a chance to regain control of one or both chambers and really turn up the heat.

It may make many quite uncomfortable to consider deploying these kinds of strategies. They make Democrats into obstructionists, even political saboteurs, much as the GOP has been for the few cycles when Democrats have been in charge.  But here there is a difference, though it’s one MAGA Republicans will never acknowledge: When actual fascists have taken control of the government and are trying to destroy democracy, patriotic opponents must use every peaceful means at their disposal to prevent them. Indeed, it is a moral imperative, because millions of lives are on the line. We cannot act as if the world has not changed, and Democrats must grow far more accustomed to acting outside the box and getting creative in their approaches.

It’s time for Democrats to play rough by delaying and gumming up Donald Trump’s tyrannical proposals to run the clock down.

[inhuman-obey-me]

The Authoritarianism of "Father's" Celestial Realm (NB Season 2)

OKAY, life got crazy for a while, but we're finally all caught up on Nightbringer's main story, and PHEW we've got some things to talk about. So let's dive right in, starting with one of our favorite topics:

God and the Celestial Realm actually kinda suck in the OM universe!!!

(spoilers up to NB lesson 38!)

Now, this been a consistent pattern for most of OM's story and lore, but we're going to be focusing here mostly on Lessons 37 and 38 in particular this time, because they had a lot to talk about in that regard.

In Lesson 37, we are introduced to the underworld, specifically Cocytus at the very bottom layer of it.

One interesting note, however, is that this region is territory of the Celestial Realm, despite it being geographically in the Devildom, and the Celestial Realm is the one that doles out punishments relating to it -- usually. We'll dive more into that whole conspiracy in another post, but it's certainly an interesting geopolitical fact of the Three Realms.

As for the underworld itself, the idea of multiple layers of hell is a common one which originates from Dante's Inferno, the first section of the Divine Comedy, and we see that Cocytus here is taken pretty directly from that as well. Just like Dante describes in the Divine Comedy, Simeon informs us that there are four regions that make up Cocytus, made up of four concentric circles of growing intensity according to their corresponding offenses. Specifically, each layer of Cocytus is related to a type of betrayal: of family, of homeland, of guests, and finally, as the very worst type of betrayal, of "him".

The design of that is immediately very telling about how the Celestial Realm views these offenses. Other offenses may land a person in the underworld in general, but these specific types of betrayal are the worst. And among those worsts, betraying God is the ultimate offense, absolutely beyond anything else one could ever do.

Now, these levels of Cocytus almost directly match Dante's Inferno take on them -- with one major, interesting distinction. In the Divine Comedy, Judecca is for "traitors to masters and benefactors." In OM, it is traitors to "him." Considering that the rest of the levels are a direct match, this suggests that, in OM, their father is the master who must never be betrayed.

And as Mammon notes, that's exactly what our beloved demon brothers did, with Lucifer in the lead.

That brings us to the present situation, with Lucifer chained and suffering at the very center of the bottom of the underworld. The worst of the worst offenders.

Simeon, Luke, and MC arrive to find Lucifer in a screaming rage, noting that same fact. Lucifer is in such pain and rage that he's creating dangerously massive gusts of wind, and as he worries about MC and then his brothers, it only gets worse. Suddenly, Raphael appears to read Lucifer his charges. And then, we get this conversation:

There's a lot going on there, but to go piece by piece, Luke is obviously distraught upon hearing the brothers' decreed fate. He wants to protest it and argue against it. Simeon stops him because Luke absolutely must not say another word -- as a reminder, arguing against Lilith's punishment was the catalyst for the whole rebellion that ensued, which is the entire reason Lucifer is being punished like this now!

Simeon, however, has recently been demoted. We know he was a seraph at the time of the rebellion; the official Nightbringer website specifies that he was demoted for "covering for" the brothers, though we don't know the specifics of what happened there. Simeon has always been a little daring on speaking truth to power, and considering he's already been demoted, it seems he's willing to take the potential consequence of speaking up again here. So he does, expressing his questions and concerns about the whole situation going on. And, finally, he calls out Raphael on also feeling the same as he and Luke both do.

It is perhaps the most telling moment we've gotten to date of how Raphael has felt about this whole civil war between the angels. In the past, he's been fairly consistently strict about the Celestial Realm's rules, which essentially boil down to always obeying their father, and Michael by extension. And he holds himself to basically the same standards, obediently doing whatever Michael tells him to even as he's disgruntled or frustrated by the myriad requests. But when it comes to seeing Lucifer punished this way, he can't accept it either. It's wrong, and he knows it.

But he can't question decisions that come from on high. Even doubting is considered wrong.

We've heard the same from Lucifer once before -- that he questioned one who was never to be questioned. That is what he has been punished for.

This is the reason Luke must not speak up. This is the reason Raphael is crying. And it's the reason for Lucifer's current punishment. Simeon, Lucifer, and Raphael all know it implicitly -- what comes from on high is absolute. Questioning is unacceptable. Doubts are unacceptable. And rebellion is unacceptable -- the absolute worst thing that someone can do.

Anyway, now throw all that out though, because apparently Lesson 38 wants to attempt to bring us to a completely different conclusion!

Let's be honest here -- OM is a bit jumpy on its writing sometimes, and sometimes makes wild left turns. But we ended Lesson 37 feeling pretty excited because it's revisiting a common theme we've had hinted at throughout both games about what kind of leader their father is and what kind of place the Celestial Realm really is under him. And what we've seen, generally, is this: it is a very strict place, unforgiving of those who step out of line, where their father's word is absolute, and even feeling doubt is a grave offense. We even know that Simeon's greatest fear is their father!

So imagine our shock and disappointment when Lesson 38 suddenly decides that, no, actually, this punishment and everything else is actually God's love for them. What?!

New theory: exactly one person on OM's writing team is actually super religious and keeps trying to make this game about dating demons into a message that God is good. These lessons were not written by the same person.

Lesson 38 starts with a rather chaotic scene -- Lucifer has broken free of his chains and is lashing out in rage and despair, not thinking straight. Diavolo makes his appearance and tries to subdue Lucifer, though the two end up going into an all-out brawl as Lucifer lashes out at Diavolo as well. MC eventually intervenes and the brothers show up to protect MC from both Lucifer's and Diavolo's attacks. Lucifer is taken aback seeing that his brothers are all okay and present in front of him, and as MC approaches him to further calm him down, the Ring of Light glows and Lucifer momentarily transforms into his angel form, inspiring awe from everyone around at the sight of the Morning Star once more.

Earlier, Lucifer was begging to be shown some kind of sign from his father, of what it was that he wanted from him. Simeon comments that this might be Father answering that call for a sign -- a sign of his love. Lucifer seems to accept this, though with some bewilderment. But we have Lucifer straight up tell MC later in the lesson that he "must have forgotten" that Father loved them all along! That all he ever did was give, and never ask for anything in return!

Except for blind, unwavering loyalty. Something that Lucifer has actually forgotten about in this moment.

For that matter, why does Simeon automatically assume it's this grand sign of their father's love?! He himself just stated his own doubts and called Raphael out on his.

It's a huge 180 that gave us some intense whiplash for sure. But this isn't the first time we've seen that more religious trauma view from Simeon; we've seen it before in OG season 4, where he has obviously been deeply affected by being demoted out of being an angel altogether but tries to reassure himself that their father does everything for a reason, "even this."

However, even aside from the very sudden turnaround, this explanation leaves a lot to be desired, because it doesn't actually answer anything!!!

We just got told that Raphael was crying from the cognitive dissonance of obeying orders to read the charges against Lucifer while feeling deep down in his heart of hearts that this is wrong. Luke has been stopped from saying anything that could be construed as going against their father! Even harboring doubts is wrong, but somehow we are supposed to suddenly believe that it's because their father loves them?

If that's God's love, it's sure sounding like God is an abusive helicopter parent, because that's not a healthy loving relationship.

Think about it -- this is a scene of punishment. Lucifer isn't just chilling down here for fun; he is actively in pain when we find him, and it only escalates his torment at the thought that his brothers are being punished similarly. And even as we are told that Little D. No. 1 couldn't take material form because their father "just loved them so much," is it really a healthy form of so-called love to hold on to a piece of Lucifer's soul without his knowledge, even after casting him out?! We wouldn't say that a parent who throws their own child out to be homeless while keeping their old room intact is a good, loving parent; why should we think this is any different?

Plus, this is the case for Lucifer -- but what about the other brothers? Though they all managed to get free, Cocytus itself seemed prepared to punish each of them for their various transgressions, and as Mammon points out, all of them were guilty of treason against their father. Yet, it's only Lucifer whose Little D. was never able to take form. It is Lucifer specifically who is targeted for this Cocytus punishment, and the others would likely have been left alone if not for the fact that they came to save him. Lucifer is the one who, for that one moment, regains his angel form.

And what does this mean, if this is God letting go of the last of his grip on Lucifer? That he still loved his favorite son but is casting him away for real now? We know Lucifer has said that God would never forgive him in particular, and though he's been accused of just being stubborn himself (and make no mistake, Lucifer certainly is also stubborn too), it does seem in line with everything else we've been shown about their father. Does this mean that their father no longer loves Lucifer, from this specific point onwards?

And, if their father loves them so much -- then why did they need to rebel for Lilith's sake? The implication here is truly bizarre: their father was going to obliterate Lilith entirely from all existence so that not even her soul would remain, but he also just loves Lucifer so much, but is also so authoritarian that Lucifer trying to talk it out with him was met with a complete shutdown so that Lucifer felt he had no other choice but to start the war. Of course, conveniently, this lesson also just chooses to completely disregard the whole Lilith thing, both her existence at all alongside the brothers before the war and her punishment, so apparently none of that matters!

It's completely out of line with the rest of everything we've ever really been told about the Celestial Realm, and frankly, we don't like or accept it. This so-called love that's suddenly used as the explanation in Lesson 38 isn't a true or healthy kind of love, and we don't want it.

So in conclusion: God is gaslighting us but he really does totally actually suck. We're just supposed to suddenly believe now, out of nowhere, that he doesn't. But he definitely, really does.

Anyway so, Lesson 37 is 10/10 and 38 is -10/10, would not read again. Merry Crisis!

[acapelladitty]

something lost, something gained

Summary: After being snatched by human traffickers while exploring an abandoned schoolhouse, Lucy fights to survive as she waits for Cooper to find her. (3.9k words)

(warnings for: attempted sexual assault, biting, blood, face slapping, groping, violence, murder, aftercare, hurt/comfort, cooper trying his best in a bad situation)

Fic Masterlist

Link to AO3

Awaking with a languid groan, Lucy's eyes flittered open for only a moment before slamming shut again as a dull pain to her temple made her wince and gasp. Raising her right hand to press at the skin, she was surprised to find her left hand moving in tandem and her eyes snapped open as she realised that her hands were bound together.

Gazing down at the coarse rope which encircled her wrists, panic arose in Lucy's chest as she glanced around the small, cell-shaped room and immediately understood that she was not anywhere recognisable. It didn't even look like the same building she last remembered walking into.

"Cooper?" Calling out with a dry, uncomfortable voice, a sense of irritation laced the anxiety which rolled through her. "What the fudge? Why am I in here?"

The door to the cell creaked open and Lucy glanced up from her slumped position to see a man she did not recognise fill the doorway. He was very tall, head almost brushing the top of the door frame, with a mop of raggedy blonde hair hanging limply across his shoulders and something in the way he looked at her made her skin crawl with unspoken danger. An instinctive disgust which made her mouth tighten.

"Finally awake." The man spoke, his voice sharp, light and slightly pitched. "We were worried we'd done some real damage to your head there."

At his words, Lucy finished her earlier assessment as her fingers once again grazed the hard lump which had formed on her temple - the skin feeling raw and wounded under her fingertips. Dragging her fingertips away, she found them flecked with her own blood.

"Who are you?" She asked, wide eyes darting across the limited space. "Did Cooper put you up to this? Or my father?"

"Don't know who any of those people are but we saw you going into that old schoolhouse with a ghoul so we snuck in, waited for you to split, and gently smuggled you out."

Gently smuggled.

The wound on her head suggested otherwise.

"Why?" A reflex question, one Lucy didn't think she wanted the answer to as the blonde man took a small step in her direction to stare down at her with a lecherous smirk.

"Cause you're in our territory and you're ours now. Me and my buddies have a little side business going on and you're our latest catch." His gaze roving across her white tank top and blue pants, one of his hands settled on the visible bulge of his groin as he winked at her. "We take them, break them, and pass them on to be sold. 50/50 share. And, baby, let me tell you, you're gonna fetch us a pretty price."

The panic in her chest now clawing at her heart as she scrambled her back against the cool stone of the wall, Lucy felt sweat break out across her body as she took in his candid admission with open-mouthed horror.

"No. You can't-"

"Yeah. I can smell the vault on you so I know you probably aren't rolling with the same diseases as all the other cunts we pick up."

Flinching at the term, Lucy fell back into what she knew best as old defense mechanisms kicked in to protect her as best they could.

"Let me go and I'll get you whatever you need. Caps, meds, weapons. I know people who could hel-"

"You?" Laughing openly at her offer, the man steadied himself against the doorframe. "Maybe that bulky ghoul we saw you with could have worked some muscle for us but you haven't got shit we need. Well, aside from-"

His hand still groping sleazily against his bulge, the man stepped fully within the cell and kicked the door shut before him. An action which made Lucy jump as her body shuddered and tensed to the point of discomfort, sensing the danger and violence to come.

"You see, cunt. I'm much nicer than my two friends out there and I'm willing to cut you some slack. Wrap your lips around my cock and suck it like your life depended on it, and I'll tell the boys that you're willing to be a good girl for us. They'll even leave their nasty 'breaking in' toys at the door if they think you're gonna be a good girl."

As he spoke, his body inched closer towards Lucy and her fingers shook terribly as she struggled against the rope holding her wrists, vision quick to blur as genuine fear rocked through her body.

He's going to rape me. Repeated in her head like a cruel, merciless mantra. The elders had told them what rape was, explained that they needed consent to ensure that everyone in the vault was happy and able to share their bodies without problem. They knew, in the vault, they all knew what was okay and what wasn't.

"Cooper!" She hollered out, voice breaking on the second syllable as she attempted to back up against the wall enough to scramble to her feet. "Please, fudge, someone help!"

A memory rose, unbidden in her mind as Lucy rolled her back against the wall. Not long after her body had started to change, one of the elders, a slender old guy named Ernest, had caught her in the gardens. He had asked her questions about her changing body, questions that made her heart feel heavy in her chest as a sense of how wrong he made her feel forced her to back away from him.

He had moved to grab her, his hand wrenching her arm away from her chest when her father had appeared from nowhere. He had been causal in his greeting but even as a child, she had noticed how tight her dad's smile was and how quickly he ushered her back to her room so he could have a quick chat with him.

Ernest died soon after. One of the first to be lost to the latest famine as the crops failed due to an unknown blight. She hadn't questioned it then, too many good people had been lost, but now, in this moment where that same childish fear weighed heavily at her limbs, she wondered if her father had killed him for what he had tried to do.

Kicking out with her feet as the man dropped to his knees before her, his fingers were quick to lock around her ankles - pulling her free of the wall and stealing the breath from her lungs as her head collided with the floor.

"Please, no. Don't do this! No!"

"First times always the worst."

Flashing rotted teeth at her as he straddled her waist, his hands pinned her own roped palms to her stomach as he burrowed down into her space. His breath was awful, smelling foul and rancid, and it sparked a retch in Lucy's throat as she twisted her head to the side. His tongue trailed across her cheek, tasting the grime on her skin as he growled in her ear.

"Just gotta remember to be a good girl and-ARGH!" Breaking off into a pained scream, the man reared back as blood poured from his mouth to drip down on her tank top.

Spitting out the large portion of tongue she had ripped free with her teeth, Lucy used her attackers moment of stunned pain to knock him free of her body. Crawling on her knees, she almost made it to the door when a rough hand wrapped around her hair.

"Stupid cunt!" The words lisping due to his injury, the man's hand was like fire in her hair as he snatched at her scalp viciously. "Gonna break your fucking nose for that."

Yelling as her hands locked around a small shard of metal that lay by the closed door, the man's foot having accidentally knocked it within the cell as he entered, Lucy gripped it tight as she spun on her knees, digging the shard deep into the closest foot she could reach before pulling it free with a vicious twist.

A fresh cry of pain broke free of her attacker as he crashed to the ground, his hands tight around his foot while he snarled obscenities at her.

Fuelled by adrenaline, fear and rage, Lucy pounced on him like a cat, knocking his back flat to the floor as she stabbed the metal as roughly into his throat as she could. Memories of her fraudulent husband flashed before her eyes and she hollered a vicious snarl as she dragged the metal through his skin until the blood flowed and the gurgling of his throat ceased.

Breathing heavily, she stayed in that position until his glassy-eyed stare repulsed her, the scent of fresh blood making her heave anew. Body shaking and mind rattling, it was only when a new voice broke the silence that she jumped as though an electric bolt had fired across her spine.

"Fuck, Petey. She's killed Owen."

Rolling off the corpse, Lucy was quick to take her earlier position - her stained fingers clutching the metal shard as her back pressed against the wall once more.

"Owen was always a dipshit. We'll be better off without him." The taller of the two newcomers added.

Looking just as filthy as the first guy, Lucy's eyes were wild as she pointed the metal at each of them in turn.

"L-let me go. I'll do the same to you." She stuttered, a sinking feeling of despair making her skin feel cold and clammy. "I've killed people before and you'll be next."

Glancing between themselves, both men burst out into a cruel laughter and their movements were quick as they descended on her. Fingers already trembling, it was easy for them to wrestle the metal from her hands and pin her to the floor; their much larger bodies easily holding her knees apart as they pressed them to the floor with their own legs.

Rough hands fished inside her tank top and Lucy found herself unable to do much but bare her teeth and fight off a sob as her chest was pulled free of her bra; breasts spilling over the fabric as matching grunts of approval escaped her attackers.

"They'll do nicely. Fuck, might not even sell this one, what do you think?" The one named Petey asked, his free hand gripping at her chin painfully as he tilted her head to the side in a crude inspection.

Cupping her left breast as though weighing it in his hand, the other man flashed a yellow smile at her.

"Could play with her for a few weeks without going to the others. Would you like that? A few weeks with us and then a ten minute walk up north to meet the rest of the boys?"

Refusing to answer as a fat tear rolled free of her eye, Lucy chose to remain quiet and not give them anything as she struggled in vain.

"You owe us for you did to Owen." The second man continued, his face an open leer as he released her jaw. "So I'm gonna fuck you and then Petey is gonna fuck you and then we're both gonna fuck you. Then you're gonna open those pretty lips wide for-"

"No."

A sharp hand collided with the side of Lucy's face, the blow catching her across the mouth and bursting her lip open in an instant as the taste of copper flooded her mouth.

"Not asking, cunt."

Their hands were all over her, one set fondling her breasts while the other pulled at the hem of her tank top to expose her stomach. They were everywhere and the feeling of them, hot and heavy atop her body, made her feel sick - her throat constricting and panicking as her breaths came short and fast.

The vague sound of the door slamming open touched at her senses but it felt so far off that she didn't think much of it until all hell broke loose.

A fresh splatter of blood sprayed across her face, the sensation matching by a booming gunshot which made her ears ring in the small space as the taller of the two, Petey, collapsed dead atop her - a hole leaking blood and brains from the front of his forehead to her exposed chest.

In shock, both Lucy and the remaining man stared at the corpse for a second before Lucy felt half the weight on her body disappear as the final attacker was pulled free. Her eyes unfocused and blurred with tears, she saw the flash of familiar, tattered leather which hurled her would-be attacker against the wall.

Sounds of exertion were quickly followed by a fresh death gurgle as Cooper's knife flashed in his hand for only a second before being drawn across her attackers throat; the arterial spray swiftly coating Cooper's clothed chest as he let go of his prey and allowed the fresh body to drop to the floor.

Not trusting her eyes, Lucy tilted her head back and cast her gaze to the dingy ceiling as her thoughs spiralled into a messy haze.

After a moment, Cooper's face swam in her vision and the close sight of him sparked a myriad of emotions within her; shock giving way to genuine relief before settling on fear as she took in the genuine fury which blazed in his stark white eyes as they darted across her battered face and disjointed clothing.

He wasn't angry with her, she knew that, but the sheer rage which rolled from his coiled frame made her want to curl into a ball and hide away from it. He smelled of leather and blood, the scent of fresh violence making her nose twitch as the corpses of her attackers lay motionless, crowding the floor of her cell.

"S'alright, I got you, sweetie." Cooper's hands were firm but gentle as he wrapped them around her shoulders, hoisting her enough that she were able to lean against the wall in a sitting position.

Despite everything, his voice was like a balm and she relaxed into his touch as her trembling fingers were gripped within his own - his knife glinting once more as he quickly severed her bindings and let the rope fall to the floor. In an instant, her knees snapped to her chest as her arms looped around them, her body curling in on itself as a wave of nausea made her throat feel tight.

Still on his haunches before her, Cooper studied her for a solid moment before matching her position as he leaned against the opposite wall, his legs outstretched and his back straight against the cool stone.

"Fix yourself, darlin'. I'd offer but I don't think you want another monsters hands on you before the day's out."

Keeping her knees tight, Lucy brought trembling fingers to her chest - her relief at being saved having made her forget about her state of undress - and she tucked her breasts away back into the off-white bra with a lifeless motion, the skin feeling sensitive and sore due to their abuse. Made decent, her arms were quick to loop around her knees once more, her chin sitting atop her knees as a gloomy, far-off expression graced her features.

"Did they-" A half question which Cooper quickly thought better of as he abandoned ship and adjusted it on the fly. "You okay?" It was a quiet ask, the words so low that Lucy knew she could ignore them if she wanted to.

"No," she stuttered, feeling weary despite the adrenaline which still pulsed in her veins, "but I have to be because what else is there. So I have to be."

Making a small noise of agreement in his chest, Cooper's gaze rose to the ceiling as he plucked his hat from his head and dropped it to the floor by his open lap.

"That you do, darlin'. Nothing else for it."

They sat in silence for a bit, the only slightly pained sounds coming from Lucy's throat as she adjusted to the various aches which afflicted her body. Her face was the worst as her temple throbbed like a bitch and her burst lip felt huge and ugly against her mouth. The bodies forever doomed to lay in messy piles, Lucy's eyes ghosted over them and settled on the growing patches of blood which each steadily leaked to the cell floor.

"You killed them all?" She said, already knowing the answer and unsure why she even asked.

"Not all of them. One of them was already dead when I got here and I'd recognise the teeth marks in that hunk of ripped tongue anywhere." Despite the guarded nature of his tone, there was a spark of warmth as he flashed his, well, her, finger at her, and Lucy swore she heard the slightest hint of pride leaking through. "You did good, sweetheart. You fought like a hellcat and you didn't let them win."

"Didn't win." Lucy mumbled miserly. "You did."

"Oh, I have no doubt you would have gotten them both in the end. They might have taken a few strips from you, but that fire in your belly would have scorched them dry."

Mouth upturning at the praise as she fought off the urge to cry, Lucy swiped at her eyes with the back of her hands as her breathing quickly grew erratic.

"All these bullshit lessons you've put me through and it still wasnt enough." She blurted out with a desperate gasp. "They're evil. I hate it here. I hate their cruelty. I hate their hurting. I hate-"

Finally unable to hold back the swell of emotion which threatened her, Lucy broke off on the final word as a heaving sob replaced any chance she had of cohesive speech. It was something raw and unfiltered, mourning the loss of some part of herself that would never be returned as she was forced to mold herself into a creature of violence and hate just to survive in their world.

Cooper, to his credit, let her cry without any false sympathies or interference. His face lacked any judgement, the hole in his face flexing slightly as he inhaled and exhaled steadily, eyes never shifting from Lucy's sobbing frame. Something difficult to pin down flashed through his gaze as though a multitude of possible outcomes were pushing at his thoughts.

After some internal debate, a grunt slipped free of Cooper's lips as he leaned across the short space and pulled at Lucy's shoulder.

So lost in her own misery, Lucy didn't fight the pressure of his strong hand as he pulled her to the side, dropping her to the floor in such a way that her head pressed against the upper part of his legs as she faced away from him. It did nothing to stop her tears, but it did give her something to lean on as he immediately retracted his hand to fold his arms fully across his chest.

Cooper's thighs were like unyielding steel beneath her head, giving Lucy something solid to pin her senses on as she fought to quell the quiver of her lip and the shudders which continued to wrack her body. Their journey had been hard and the hunt for her father was a disaster of interference and dead trails of information.

This was just the latest set-back in a long list of utter shit.

Offering her no other physical support, unsure if it would cause her to act out or break down further, Cooper waited until her breathing was a little more even before speaking again.

"Be sad." He paused, allowing the rare piece of advice to sit heavily in the air between them. "Be angry. Feel that fire in your gut burn so hot that you get the fear it's gonna burst free and raze everything around you to the ground. Hell, curse the day your momma brought you into the world if that's how you feel. But don't break."

Stopping once again, Cooper felt a rare moment of genuine pity for the woman as he glanced down at her. Lucy Maclean, who foolishly tried to choose peace in a peaceless world, still had a lot of learning to do when it came to the way that same world worked.

He could only show her so much, some lessons had to be learned the hard way, and if she could take them, then he would do his part to keep her whole.

"Whatever they do to you, survive it. Skulk off, lick your wounds, come back stronger. Get that revenge your blood sings for." Speaking as much to himself as her, Cooper allowed her a peek into his own thoughts, an insight he knew she wouldn't fully understand quite yet. "Never let them break you. Better off dead than broken in this world."

Gathering herself enough to shakily speak, Lucy gripped Cooper's knee with clawing fingers as she clung to him like a lifeline.

"There's more of them. Ten minutes up north. That's who they were- who they were going to sell me to."

"More side-tracking bullshit." Cooper sighed but his voice grew more contemplative as his gravelled tones mused on her words. "That said, been a while since I hunted down some proper vermin. No bounty. No rules. Might be fun to let loose for once."

He let the idea hang in the air, curious if she was hinting at what he suspected she was.

"You coming with me?"

"Yeah."

Unseen by the shaking Lucy, a pleased smile split Cooper's lips as he glanced down at her steady answer.

It wasn't often he took on a companion, far less one that he'd actually indulge, but the odd woman intrigued him with the hypocrisy of her very existence. A vaultie with a edge, naive blood screaming out for wrongs to be righted just like his own as she fought alongside him like a harpy.

It did help that they both wanted her dear old daddy strung up like the traitor he were.

But revenge would see her right.

She was owed a debt by those who had tried to take her, a debt of honor, and he would see that she avenged it in a glorious explosion of violence that would help keep her nightmares at bay as they would leave no doubt that the beasts responsible were well put down and unable to haunt her.

By gun or by knife, she would get at least that.

He had seen the broken ones. The ones used and abused by so many across the wastelands that they gave up everything and became husks even more devoid of humanity than the ghouls who lost the battle and went feral. It was a fate worse than the many deaths he'd experienced in his time.

No one deserved that.

Especially not Lucy Maclean.

His hand ghosting over her head, fingers only an inch away from her fine head of mousy hair, Cooper tilted his head to the side as he took her exhausted frame in.

"Sleep for now, vaultie. Time for this little killer to save her strength. So take it for what it is and when you wake, we'll see about righting some of the wrongs that happened here."

Feeling more safe with the violent ghoul who had shown her the new reality of her world than any other of the awful creatures she had met since leaving her vault, Lucy's eyes fluttered close as his voice washed over her and exhaustion claimed her before she could do anything to muse on that odd feeling of safety.

Links to the rest of the series:

Part 1

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

[arcane-vagabond]

Hanging By a Moment: Chapter Three

Hanging By a Moment: Chapter Three

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Taking place directly after the events of "Don't Hang'em Til Noon," this series follows more of Jake and Scout as they traverse life in the New Mexico territories. Isaac Cassidy's gang is still hanging about, stirring up trouble in the name of their fallen leader. Additionally, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell and your brother, Benjamin, have established rights to a gold mine that's now drawing in more and more unsavory characters. Will you have what it takes to survive the growing danger?

Content Warnings: Talks of business, Talks of unsavory characters, Flirting, Jake being a menace, Bradley being kind of cute, Feelings of being watched, Paranoia, Thunderstorms, Reader gets scared, Cuddling, Talks of the future, and a Proposal. I think that's everything, but please let me know if I missed something!

Word Count: 3.4k

Series Masterlist || DGU Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist 1 || Playlist 2

“It’s rather sudden, wouldn’t you say?” You asked Benjamin as he shoved a wad of shirts into one of his suitcases. Rolling your eyes, you stepped into his room, removing the shirts to fold them neatly into a pile as he started in on his pants. “Would you stop shoving everything in? You’re going to have wrinkles in everything by the time you get there.”

Benjamin rolled his eyes, setting his pants down on the bed before crossing his arms over his chest.

“You nag just like Mother used to,” he grumbled. You shot him a dirty look before dropping the shirt in your hands and moving towards the door. Benjamin let out an exasperated growl before grabbing your wrist and pulling you back. “Okay, fine. I’m sorry. Please help me pack.”

You let out a humph and a roll of your eyes as you continued to fold his clothes neatly for him.

“Now why must you go off to San Francisco so suddenly?” You prodded.

“It’ll be good for the business,” he explained. “Mr. Kerner has invited Maverick and me to join him at his firm to go over the essentials and to tour other mines so that we might see how the operations work. Maverick won’t join us until later, but I’ll go ahead to get some of the legal proceedings outs of the way.”

“You’re a lawyer,” you hummed, a frown tugging at your lips, “so why the sudden interest in investing in a gold mine?”

“It’ll be good money, Scout,” he insisted. “It’ll set my children and even yours up for life. Hell, this could be an addition to our legacy, to the life we’ve started out here.”

Financial security was tempting, especially in uncertain times, and while the ranch itself was making money, there was no promise that it would tomorrow. You supposed that it was wise to venture into other pursuits—just in case one of them ended up a failure.

“I can see by the look on your face that you don’t agree,” Benjamin hummed, pursing his lips.

“No, it’s not that,” you grumbled, shaking your head. Benjamin arched a brow in your direction in a silent question, and you let out a long sigh before continuing. “I’m concerned about the safety of this town. News of gold is going to draw in all sorts from all over, and only a fraction of them will have good intentions. Did you consider that?”

Benjamin didn’t respond right away, the thoughts racing through his head almost visible in his eyes. After a moment, he shook his head, moving across the room to gather a couple of items from his dresser.

“You worry too much.”

You scoffed. “You worry too little.”

“That’s why we’re such a great team, baby sister,” he grinned, spinning back around on his heel to face you. “Together, we worry just the right amount.”

You glared at him, though there was no real heat to it.

“Bad things are bound to happen anywhere,” he reasoned with a sigh, plopping down on the bed beside you, arms outstretched across the width of the mattress. “The country is expanding west, Scout. There were already unsavory characters here, as you very well know.”

You did know, the memory of Isaac’s cold, black eyes flashing in your mind and sending a shiver up your spine.

“That doesn’t mean we need to give others more reason to follow suit,” you muttered, picking at some non-existent lint on your skirt. Benjamin let out a long sigh before turning his head to look at you.

“You know,” he drawled thoughtfully, “you could just seduce them all like you did Seresin. I mean, it worked out pretty well last ti-”

Benjamin let out a startled squawk as you brought the pillow down on his face, his arms flailing as he scrambled to sit up as you reared your hand back to hit him again.

“I did not seduce him,” you hissed, trying desperately to hold back your laughter as Benjamin nearly collapsed onto the floor in his frenzy.

“Well, you certainly didn’t stop him,” he snickered, dodging your next blow just in time, cowering as you advanced on him. “In fact, there’s been more than one occasion where I’ve walked in on the two of you engaging in-”

The next blow had him stumbling on his feet. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, the heat running down your neck and to your ears. Benjamin rubbed his jaw, pulling his fingers back to inspect them.

“Kissing,” he said, glancing over at you. “I was going to say kissing. Your guilty conscious gets the better of you, Scout.”

You scowled at him, raising the pillow once more, only stopping once he raised his hands in surrender.

“I yield,” he chuckled, dropping his hands as you dropped yours. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing, you know.”

“I’d rather you didn’t say anything,” you retorted, setting the pillow back in its proper place.

“I think it’s good you’ve found happiness out here,” he continued, ignoring your comment. “I’m happy that you’ve managed to find someone who makes you happy rather than someone who you think would make our father happy. Jake is a fairly decent step up from Henry Cargill.”

Your lips puckered at the name. You would have lived comfortably had you chosen to stay behind in Maryland and marry Henry as your late father would have wanted before his death, but you knew you made the right decision in choosing Jake.

Even if he still hadn’t proposed after all these months.

“I have to go run a few things to Penny,” you announced, making a beeline for the door.

“Sure you do,” Benjamin scoffed. “Give my regards to Jake, then.”

The fan in your hand did little to quell the heat of the changing seasons. It was early spring, a time where it was too hot for your winter wardrobe, but still too hot for your summer clothes. Your arm was beginning to hurt from how hard you were fanning yourself, and you closed your eyes to give them a rest from the glare of the sun overhead.

You hated the heat.

“Well, hello, gorgeous.”

You pried an eye open to see two green ones already on you. You straightened up, turning to face Jake fully as he smirked down at you.

“Jake,” you nodded, managing to keep the eager smile at bay as you batted your eyes up at him.

“You look like you’re roastin’, honey girl,” he chuckled, reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Why’d you wear this if it’s gonna have you miserable?”

“I’ll be too cold in my summer clothes,” you explained with a sigh. Jake’s eyes twinkled as his smirk grew lascivious.

“I can think of a few ways to keep you warm,” he purred, a different heat rising to your cheeks at his words. You swatted him with your fan as you glanced around to see if anyone had heard him.

“Behave,” you warned, snapping the fan shut and tapping the end into his chest. He pouted, placing a hand to his chest in faux hurt.

“Me?” He asked, batting his lashes. “You’re accusing me of misbehaving? Well, now I’m hurt.”

“I’m sure you are,” you snorted, withdrawing your hand to continue fanning yourself. Jake watched you for a moment, drinking you in as sweat ran down the column of your throat, his eyes following it down and continuing on as he took in the rest of you. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he shifted, and you shot him a glare.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you snapped, drawing his attention back to your face, a sheepish look gracing his features at having been caught.

“Like what?”

“You know damn good and well what you were doing,” you hissed, narrowing your eyes at him. “We’re not a married couple, and people already talk.”

“Let them,” he said, leaning forward. You pushed at his chest, a thunderous look on your face as he chuckled. “We’re practically married, anyway.”

Your temper simmered beneath your skin as you replied, “Not without a proper proposal and ceremony, we’re not.”

“All good things to those who wait, honey girl,” he smirked once more. You pursed your lips, lifting your chin as you watched the people of Maverick pass by.

“The butcher’s son asked me for my hand again yesterday morning,” you mused. “If you don’t get your act together soon, I’m going to let him start believing it’s a possibility.”

“Honey girl, you best watch it now,” Jake warned, eyes growing dark as a glint shone in his eyes.

“Or what?” You challenged, lifting your chin in defiance. Jake’s frown turned into a dangerous smirk. He squared his shoulders, taking a step closer to you before leaning down close enough for you to inhale the scent was so distinctly him. He leaned in, the heat rolling off of him and causing a flurry of butterflies in your stomach. Your hand came up to brace yourself against his arm as his other wound around your waist, squeezing slightly.

“Or,” he purred, lips brushing against the shell of your ear, “I’ll put you over my knee and leave your ass so red and raw, you’ll be shifting in that pew at church Sunday morning.”

You let out a shuddering breath, chest heaving as he pulled away, a smug smirk sat firmly on his lips as he shot you a wink.

“You look flustered, Scout,” he grinned, golden hair shining in the sunlight and creating a halo effect that had you gaping. “Looks like you might need to sit down before you faint.”

“You’re a menace,” you grumbled, shooting him a half-hearted glare. He chuckled and leaned down to peck your cheek.

“Takes one to know one,” he murmured as you swatted at him again. He dodged you, hopping back.

“Jake!”

You turned to see Bradley standing on the porch to the Hard Deck, posture nervous as he shifted on his feet and his eyes darted around. Jake sighed and let out a long sigh as he shoved his hands in his pockets. He peered over at you as the other man gestured towards the blond to come over.

“I gotta go, honey girl,” Jake said, pursing his lips as he shot Bradley a glare. “Bradshaw wants to make sure his costume is perfect for the play in a couple of days, and I somehow got roped into helping.”

“Will you be by for dinner?” You asked. “I’m making dumplings.”

Jake let out a moan as he fixed you with adoring eyes. “I swear to god, I’m going to marry you.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” you teased, a smile playing at your lips.

“Jake!”

“Jesus, Bradshaw! It’s a costume for a school play, not life and death,” Jake snapped over his shoulder. “Give me a damn minute!”

You snickered as Bradley rolled his eyes and stomped back into the saloon. Jake grinned down at you as he toyed with a strand of your hair.

“When’s Benji goin’ to be home?” He purred, eyes lidded as he looked you up and down once more.

“He won’t,” you told him, and his attention snapped up to you. “He’s going to San Francisco for business.”

“He what?” Jake asked, frowning. “He’s leaving you on your own?”

“Yes,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “It’s not the end of the world. It’s only for a few weeks, and I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“Jake.”

You looked to see Javy now standing on the porch, hands on his hips as he nodded at you.

“Come on,” he hollered across the street, peering over his shoulder for a moment to see into the saloon. “Bradley’s freaking out. You can canoodle later.”

You looked back at Jake who looked like he was going to lose his temper at any moment, bridge of his nose between his fingers.

“He’s coming!” You hollered back, a smile on your face as you rested a hand on Jake’s chest. You lowered your head to try and meet his gaze. “Canoodle?”

“I don’t know where he hears these words,” he griped, shaking his head. “You’d think the damn world was ending with how Bradley’s going on about this whole thing. It’s a play, for Christ’s sake.”

“I think it’s sweet,” you shrugged. “He and Birdie are cute together.”

Jake hummed but didn’t answer, leaning forward to press a tender kiss to your forehead before reluctantly pulling away.

“I’ll see you later tonight?” He asked, backing away slowly. You nodded barely hiding your smile behind your fan as he grinned, turning and trotting over towards the saloon. You watched silently, and with one last wave, he was inside.

You let out a sigh, wondering just when exactly you had become so lovesick as to miss him already. A tingle shot up the base of your neck, and you whipped your head towards the end of the street, the feeling of being watched suddenly prominent. You frowned as your scanned the street, shaking your head as you saw no one or nothing out of place. That was happening to you a lot recently, the feeling of being watched. You always managed to chalk it up to residual feelings from your encounter with Isaac not too long ago.

The bell to the door of the general store rang out, startling you out of your thoughts as Hondo grinned down at you.

“Well, good afternoon, Miss Scout,” he grinned, stepping back and gesturing for you to walk in. “Have you been waiting long? I didn’t think I’d take so long getting that shipment ready.”

“No,” you breathed, shaking your head and the rest of the worrying thoughts out of your head. “Not at all. Do you have anything new in today?”

It was late, and you weren’t quite sure what to do with yourself. The ranch hands had retired to their own homes only an hour before, and you had finished cleaning up from dinner not long after. Jake hadn’t shown up, and you were sure that Bradley’s panic induced state had something to do with that.

The wind had been picking up steadily over the course of the past hour, and the sound of distant thunder rolled into the confines of your home. You usually found the sound of thunder soothing, but for some reason it had you on edge tonight. The rain had started off as a few scattered sprinkles and then quickly dissolved into a downpour, the wind howling and rattling the windows. You had taken up purchase on the sofa, needlework in hand as you attempted to occupy your mind with anything other than worrying thoughts that nagged at you.

The fireplace crackled, casting a soothing heat that helped to ease your mind some, but you quickly set your needlework aside to get up and make yourself some tea.

The kitchen was dark save for the candle you had lit to allow yourself some light, the light from the flame flickering and casting ominous shadows in your usually cozy home. The panes of the window rattled as another gust of wind rammed into the house, and you tapped your finger on the countertop as you chewed on your bottom lip. A crack of lightning lit up the sky, and your heart stopped as your eyes caught the shadow of a figure by the barn. You narrowed your eyes, trying to peek through the darkness and into the shadows. Surely no one would be standing out in this weather. And looking into your house of all places? Still, a sickening feeling boiled in the pit of your stomach, and adrenaline started to course through your veins.

Another crack of lightning crashed in the night, startling you enough to jump, but one look toward the barn had you letting out a shaky breath. There was no one there this time, and you were starting to wonder if there ever was to begin with. Were you going crazy?

The creek of the floorboards behind you coupled with another peel of thunder had you whirling around, a scream caught in your throat at the sight of a shadow in the doorway.

“Scout?”

It took you a moment for your eyes to adjust, but the sight of Jake standing in front of you had a wave of relief washing over you, a tear escaping the corner of your eye unbidden.

“Honey girl,” he cooed, walking forward, his arms reaching for you, “what’s wrong? What happened?”

You shook your head, a hand over your mouth as you pushed the sob working its way up back down. Jake was soaked from head to toe, droplets dripping onto the floor as he rubbed your arms in a soothing motion.

“Talk to me,” he murmured, leaning down to try and catch your gaze. “What’s going on? What has you so worked up?”

You felt stupid. The shadow you saw must have been Jake checking on the horses. Yes, that had to have been him. You were letting your paranoia get the better of you.

“You’re dripping water all over my floors,” you whispered. Jake’s eyes widened, looking from you down to the floor before letting out a breathy chuckle.

“Sorry about that,” he muttered, “I would have been here sooner, but-”

“You’re here now,” you said, moving past him and towards the laundry you hadn’t had a chance to put away yet. “You need to change or you’ll catch a cold.”

“Scout,” he started, voice wary as he watched you scurry about. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

You stood up, a clean shirt clutched in your hands as you looked back at him. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He studied you for a moment, chewing on the inside of his cheek before nodding slowly.

“Alright,” he conceded. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m positive,” you corrected. “Now go and get changed. I’ll warm up some food for you.”

Jake didn’t take long, changing and eating quickly as you took care of the odds and ends around the house. Neither of you spoke a word, but Jake’s eyes watched you as you pointedly refused to meet his gaze.

The two of you retired to the parlor, Jake reading as you started to doze. He reached for you, pulling you across the sofa and into his arms as he let out a contented sigh. You chuckled, shaking your head as you practically burrowed into his side. His fingers stroked up and down the length of your arm, adding to the calm that enveloped you even as the storm raged outside.

“You ever think about what our life together is going to be like?”

You hummed, lifting your head to peer up at him through sleepy eyes. “I do.”

“You ever think about what kind of house you’d want?” Jake continued, staring into the fireplace.

“Sometimes,” you nodded slowly. “I’d like a house big enough for our kids and grandkids to play in. Somewhere we can grow old in.”

“I’d like that too,” he murmured, hands moving down to play with your fingers absentmindedly. “I want a large house with enough land to support ourselves. Nothing like the amount of land Benji’s got himself here, but enough that we wouldn’t have to struggle.”

Silence fell between the two of you, but it wasn’t unpleasant. You soaked up the feeling of the moment, mind drifting towards sleep as Jake continued to play with your fingers.

“I’m going to build us a big, ol’ house,” he continued quietly. “I’m going to build you the kitchen of your dreams and set up your own little garden while I’m at it. You’re not going to want for anything, Scout.”

You hummed, feeling the touch of cool metal slide onto your left ring finger, a furrow in your brow as your brain tried to claw its way back to the land of the conscious.

“I can’t give you all these fancy jewels or take you to Paris and London for holidays, but I can give you my heart and my devotion. You’ll never have to question me or my loyalty to you, honey girl.”

You pried your eyes open, gasping at the diamond that now glittered on your hand. Jake brushed his lips against your temple, breathing you in as you struggled to catch up with what was happening, tears filling your eyes as a smile curled on your lips.

“Scout,” Jake started. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

A/N: I missed these two so much oh my goooooooood. And how about that ending, huh?? That's crazy lol Anyway, I'm hoping to have some time to work on a few more updates for next week, but we'll see. I'll run a poll for the next update, but let me know thoughts! Both on the next update and what you thought of this chapter!

[kxizoku-ou]

CP9 Cat Headcanons

This is... a very silly post. XD After seeing a similar concept on Pixiv (images 10–12 in this log) and critiquing the breed choices it used, I wound up writing my own take on it.

These are written with actual cats in mind (not my usual Hybrid Au), and the breed choices are just for fun— as in, largely chosen based on looks/vibes, not anything too serious. I was definitely channeling that early 2000s "characters are cats for some reason now" mini-genre, so these are pure fluff/comedy, for once... >3>

. . .

Lucci

(Bengal)

Serial toy murderer. Violently destroys any and every toy you give him within a matter of hours, days at MOST. 

Some of the things he’s done to his toys probably qualify as war crimes tbh. Likes to drown the catnip mice in his water dish. Also enjoys tearing things into ragged chunks/”gutting” the stuffing. 

Sometimes you wake up to him on your chest with a present. 

(A chunk of mutilated cat toy. He drops it onto your face.)

The most athletic cat you’ll ever know. There is no surface in your house he can’t reach SOMEHOW. Also can and will learn how to open doors, drawers, etc, and will use this unfortunate skill to get into everything if he’s bored. 

Affectionate, but only on his terms. You don’t decide when you’re allowed to pet him; when the mood strikes, he’ll interrupt whatever you’re doing and forcefully put his body in your lap. 

You’re not allowed to move until he decides you’re done. :) 

Has a surprisingly cute kneading habit. He’ll go Baby Mode and make biscuits for hours. Sucks on certain blankets too.

Kaku

(Devon Rex)

ZOOMIES TO THE MAX.

Seemingly never sits still. Will run from one end of your house to the other at all hours of the day. At night, you’re regularly woken up by the distinct rapid thumping of galloping kitty paws.

Likes high places and unexpected perching spots. This includes your shoulder— and he can make the jump on his own! 

Playful, but not prone to destroying his toys. Prefers batting hard objects down a flight of stairs to tearing the plush ones open.

Too brave (and curious) for his own good. Lacks any sense of danger when it comes to investigating something that’s caught his interest. 

This includes slipping through the front door.

Not super cuddly, but likes being near you/keeping an eye on what you’re doing. 

Has a squeaky “old man” meow. WEH!

Jabra

(Egyptian Mau)

Wild, playful, curious, and so very destructive. If he’s not kept entertained, your property will suffer for it. 

Requires FREQUENT play and attention, but fortunately, he’s not too hard to please. Throwing a squishy ball for “fetch” can keep him occupied for hours. 

The asshole cat who will make direct eye contact with you before (very deliberately) knocking something off a shelf, then sit there smugly while you try to scold him. 

Very talkative! When he wants your attention, he YELLS, and seeing wildlife outside always brings out that excited, bloodthirsty chitter. 

Taking him to the vet is an ordeal, for everyone involved...

Doesn’t mind being pet and handled. Pesters you for affection regularly, but gets bitey when he’s had enough. :/ 

Highly territorial. Will not tolerate other cats/animals near him.

Kalifa

(Turkish Angora)

Truly the embodiment of the “disdainful gorgeous fancy cat” trope. 

Her fur is incredible, due largely in part to near-constant grooming. Do NOT interrupt her washing. 

She’ll wash your fingers too if she’s feeling affectionate. Mlem mlem mlemmmm...

Likes to be involved in what you’re doing. The kind of cat to walk across your keyboard or loaf-sit on top of stray paperwork, seemingly oblivious to how badly she’s getting in the way. 

At least your “adorable secretary” makes for good moral support!

Not overly playful, but she can be a DEADLY hunter when the mood strikes— fast, agile, and with amazing reflexes no matter what kind of toy you put in front of her. 

Weirdly fickle about when you’re allowed to touch her. Will glare, hiss, and swat at fingers if you test those boundaries.

Blueno

(Norwegian Forest Cat)

The most quiet, low-maintenance, independent cat imaginable. You nearly forget he exists, sometimes.

Not much of a meower, but has a deep, calming, rumbly purr. 

Content to curl up on a chair or in a corner and let you go about your day! He’ll alternate between napping and silently staring in your general direction; the eye contact is a sign of affection. <3

Won’t seek out attention on his own, but also won’t fight it if you pick him up and carry him around like a plushie. 

...he stays limp and docile no matter what you do to him, actually.

Needs regular brushing, or his fur starts to matt. It’s pretty much the only “extra attention” he’ll require, though, and he’s (fortunately) cooperative about it. 

Learned how to open doors at some point. You don’t know how he managed that.

Fukurou

(Persian)

R O U N D (and it’s not just fluff)

Despite being shaped like a furry bowling ball, he’s quite playful, and way more agile/fast-moving than you’d expect. 

...that energy is much less cute when his full weight lands on your abdomen in the middle of the night, however.

VERY affectionate. Will take any opportunity to lay his chin on your palm, headbutt your shoulder/wrists, put his paws on your chest so he can try to lovingly lick your face, etc— purring all the while! 

Chatty cat!! Chirps and squeaks at you non-stop; if you “respond” to him, it turns into a back-and-forth conversation with his mrrep-ing. 

Fond of high places, like bookshelves and tall dressers. 

It’s unclear how such a heavy cat manages to get up onto them, but he usually ends up yowling for help when he can’t get back down.

Kumadori

(British Longhair)

A huge, massively fluffy mini-lion of a cat, with that “polite little gentleman” face common in his breed. 

Sheds. Sheds SO MUCH. All of your clothes are covered in his fur, no matter how hard you try to keep him thoroughly brushed. 

You cannot escape the fluff. 

YOWLS. The loudest, most determined drama queen when he wants something. Acts like he’s dying if his food bowl is empty for more than half an hour, non-stop howling included. 

Extremely cuddly; wants as much attention from you as you’ll give, and will flop his entire body into your lap to get it. 

Fond of jingly toys! The louder and more annoying the bell, the better. 

If you ever have to give him medicine (be it a pill or liquid), he’s utterly betrayed. Gives you the huge, sad, miserable scared-kitty eyes for the rest of the evening, and won’t let you touch him. 

(He’s over it by morning, and back to purring in your arms. Baby.)

Spandam

(Siamese)

The ugliest purebred imaginable, and his personality isn’t better. <3

Health issues. Skin/coat problems, numerous food sensitivities, arthritis, frequent UTIs, and a crooked tail from a past injury.

King of separation anxiety. If he can’t find you, he’s HOWLING, then finding a corner to cower in until his protector is back.

Truly the embodiment of the phrase “scardey cat”. Terrified of everything from the vacuum to rustling plastic bags. Huddles under the couch, trembling pathetically, after every little scare. 

...it is kind of cute when he runs to you to “save” him, however. 

This clumsy dumbass WILL get himself hurt (in incredibly stupid ways) if you don’t keep an eye on him. Utterly oblivious to real danger.

His distressed yowling is awful, and the attention-demanding yells aren’t much better. The classic So So Whiney Baby Siamese! 

NEEDS to be the only cat in the household— he’s violently territorial, but guaranteed to end up the other cat’s punching bag once he’s pissed them off enough. 

[pandorawildlife]

꧁[The Ikran]꧂

[Na’vi_Name] -> Ikran

[English_Name] -> Mountain Banshee

[Diet] -> Omnivorous; meat, fish, egg, fruits, mushrooms, seeds, nectar.

Wild Ikran most often hunt creatures such as Wuwuk Lakpxayopin, Syaksyuk, Lìnghaw, Tsawlfkio, Yerik, and fish that they snatch out of the water while flying over It.

[Habitat] -> High In the Ayram Alusìng ((Hallelujah Mountains)) the rookery of the Ikran can be found. It Is home to hundreds of these creatures, and due to this they will always be found In the flying mountains.

However they not restrained to being spotted In the mountains exclusively, as they will venture outside of them to hunt, as well as to just take flights and stretch their wings.

[Vocalisation] -> Ikran are very social creatures with a plethora of different vocalisations.

• The piercing cry of the Ikran Is one that Is meant for defining territories. This cry was also what got them their english name.

• A warning hiss, which Is most often part of a larger threat display.

• A short sharp shriek, that means stress and//or fear.

• Multiple warning sounds, as well as stress vocalisations.

• Multiple guttural sounds which are often heard during social grooming as well as when an Ikran Is content.

[Bonding] -> Ikran and Na’vi are able to bond with each other by their Kuru ((neural queues)) being connected. After an Ikran and Na’vi are connected for the first time they are bonded for life, though Na’vi are capable of bonding with another Ikran should the previous die.

While the Na’vi and Ikran are actively connected ((state known as Tsaheylu)) they are able to share mental communication, Inluding sharing Information, memories, and sensory Input.

Bonding with an Ikran for the first time can often be Immensely dangerous, but Is a required rite of passage In many Na’vi clans.

A bonded Ikran will stay close to their bonded Na’vi, Including not living In the rookery located In the Ayram Alusìng anymore.

꧁[Biology]꧂

[Colouration] -> The leathery skin of Ikran has a large variety of various complex colour schemes and patterns, Including colours like: Indigo, blue, teal, green, pink, purple, orange, yellow, brown, red, and many more.

[Sounds] -> Since Ikran breathe directly Into their chest they do not have a trachea ((airway that leads to the lungs)) In their neck.

They have a tube going from the lungs to the head, pumping air through their larynx ((vocal organ)). Chambers located In the head of the Ikran then amplify the sound, after which It Is directed to the mouth where It Is released.

While most sounds are made with the mouth open, which helps focus the direction In which the sound Is released, some are made with the mouth closed.

[Eyes] -> Ikran have 4 eyes, comprised In 2 sets; the primary eyes, and the secondary eyes. The primary eyes are the larger of the 2 pairs, and have round pupils. These eyes are capable of seeing In full colour.

The secondary eyes are smaller and situated behind the set of primary eyes. They have horizontal pupils and see In near Infrared, which Is used by the Ikran for night hunting. This set of eyes Is also highly sensitive to movement, and often acts as an early warning system against being attacked from the back.

Both sets can move Independently from each other or together, the different sets are also able to have the same or different eye colours.

All eyes have eyelids and nictitating membranes ((third eyelids)) to protect them and moisture them.

Never look an Ikran directly Into the eyes, as I can often make them feel threatened, and end In aggression.

[Limbs] -> Ikran have 4 limbs, all of which are wings. Each wing has a singular claw that Is used to cling and climb along the sides of cliffs, as well as “walk”, using the talons on both front and hind legs to climb along the ground.

While they are far less agile on land then they are In the air Ikran are fully able to dive and swim effectively both In and underwater.

[Flying] -> Ikran are highly adapted for flight, and much of their body structure shows that.

Like all of Pandora’s flying creatures, Ikran have evolved to take advantage of Pandora’s lower gravity and Increased air density for flight.

In front of the primary pair of eyes lines of sensor pits are located, which provide either airflow Information, or are highly sensitive to sound and play a role In echolocation.

The lungs of the Ikran are a bellows-like structure ((device constructed to furnish a strong blast of air)), Inflated by rib movement.

They Intake air with spiracles ((external opening used for breathing)), that are located at the front of their chest cavity. The air Intake Is controlled by something similar to a cartilaginous operculum, or a flap valve; a flap used for protection, as well as opening and closing to allow for air Intake. The lungs use unidirectional flow, meaning the air moves in one direction only and that direction does not change. Hollow bones are connected to these lungs, which moves cool air through the hollow bones of both pairs of wings, to keep the creatures from overheating while In flight. This Is needed because, due to their biochemistry, the body of Ikran create a lot of heat while flying.

Like many of Pandora’s creatures, Ikran have a strong cell structure, which Is a biologically produced carbon-fibre. This makes the bones of the Ikran much lighter and stronger. This allows for more power and lift being created with every flap of their wings, which Is needed to traverse the atmosphere of Pandora. The moon might have lower gravity, but It also has denser air, so the additional power Is necessary for fast flight. This Is however also what causes the body of an Ikran to create heat when flying.

Specifically developed muscles, that are attached to the breast bone, allow for the powerful stokes to archive lift.

In level flight, where large amounts of power are not required, Ikran propel themselves using their primary set of wings and use the smaller secondary pair to provide stability and control. When more lift and power Is needed the secondary wings will flap for more additional propulsion. The 2 pairs can move In tandem with each other or separately.

The steering vane, located on the lower jaw of an Ikran, as well as the feather like end of an Ikran’s tail provide additional performance and turning ability, often used during various aerobatics.

All of this combined makes Ikran highly manoeuvrable and competent fliers.

[ox-imagines]

Giving HTTYD Dragons to the TDB Characters

Pt. 3 | Hotarubi, Obscuary, and Mortkranken

Subaru - Foreverwing

The foreverwing is a gigantic dragon, often disguised as part of a landmass while hibernating. It’s an alpha dragon, but despite its size and status is known as a benevolent leader and a peaceful, often dormant dragon. Despite its usually peaceful demeanor, it can have quite a temper if awakened without consent. It can produce lava strong enough to destroy entire villages, as well as acid, and has the ability to manipulate plants. Foreverwings create a natural calming substance, which calms those who come in contact with the substance and can even sedate creatures who experience prolonged exposure.

Haku - Raincutter

The raincutter is a semi-aquatic dragon whose diet consists mainly of worms and grubs. Because of this, they love the rain and dislike sunny and warm weather, making them perfectly suited for Hotarubi’s consistent rain and springy atmosphere. They’re extremely loyal and passionate toward their rider and often bring them “gifts” like cats do. They’re very trusting of humans.

Zenji - Stormcutter

To start, the stormcutter has a dramatic, unique appearance and a mysterious, peculiar atmosphere. Personality-wise, it is an intelligent, curious, playful dragon that is also often proud and confident. It has well-developed sense and high empathy, and is easy to train because it will respect anyone who shows it respect. It is often sweet and quite friendly, loyal to its rider and their allies.

Rui - Razorwhip

Razorwhips are dangerous to touch, between their extremely sharp plated scales and their poisonous tears. They can also breathe out toxins. They’re reclusive by choice, distrusting people and other dragons, and can squeeze the life out of their victims with their long, prehensile tails. They are territorial and tend to be hostile, however they do however have a sense of humor and can seem a bit vain at times. Once someone earns their trust, they’re highly protective of and loyal to their rider, even though they tend to remain somewhat hostile to their rider’s allies. The metal-like qualities of their scale plates would make it much harder for Rui to accidentally harm one through touch.

Ed - Whispering Death

Whispering deaths are dangerous in almost every way, covered in spikes inside and out. Their rows of teeth rotate like a buzz saw, creating the every whispering noise that gives them their name. They’re stealthy, usually staying underground and tunneling to hunt, and are highly intelligent with a long memory though they have poor eyesight and a terrible sense of direction. Despite being ferocious and difficult to tame, if someone does something to earn the respect of a whispering death, it remembers it and trusts and respects them. Like Ed, they’re extremely sensitive to the sun.

Lyca - Monstrous Nightmare

The monstrous nightmare is ferocious-looking dragon. It’s naturally fearless and proud, impulsive, stubborn, tenacious, intimidating, hot-tempered, and tends to be aggressive. Despite its belligerent attitude, it will heed the direction of someone who proves they’re worthy of being listened to. It’s very cautious about who it trusts, and can coat itself in fire in a manner that’s as much for defense as it is offense. It’s intelligent, though easily disoriented by unfamiliar and distracting circumstances, and sensitive to loud noises. It does also have a softer side not many get to see.

Yuri - Deathgripper

The best word to describe a deathgripper is sinister. It is an attentive, intelligent, and aggressive dragon whose skull shape gives it the appearance of having a permanent sadistic grin. It enjoys playing with its prey, intentionally administering doses of venom from its stinger that won’t immediately kill its victims. Its venom is paralytic in smaller doses but doesn’t numb pain receptors, letting prey feel everything while it’s ripped apart alive. If a victim of its venom survives, once the paralyzation wears off the victim is left with a burning rash at the injection site. It should be avoided at all costs if not on your side.

Jiro - Boneknapper

The boneknapper is considered one of the most abnormal species of dragons. Its own body is physically quite weak, but it protects itself by covering itself in the bones of others. Despite its size and strength, it is agile, flexible, and skilled at moving silently. It is a perfectionist, sometimes spending years finding the right bones to complete its armor. Though it can be ornery and dangerous, a boneknapper is the most reliable dragon around once you’ve won it over.

[ianthe-is-a-bitch-and-i-love-her]

Someone You Can Build a Nest In was, in fact, pretty good, but it went in a different direction than I was hoping for and I'm not sure how to feel about it.

The story follows Shesheshen, a solitary shapeshifting monster who hunts the travelers and merchants that pass through her territory, along with the occasional monster hunters who come to slay her. She is rather lonely, and reminisces fondly and lovingly about her mother, who was slain when she was young, and her father, whose body she grew inside and who she ate her way out of when she was ready to be born. On her hunts, she keeps an eye out for someone who might make for a similarly loving parent to plant her own eggs in. After a close encounter with some hunters while in a roughly human shape, Shesheshen is nurses back to health by a kind woman who has mistaken her for human, and promptly falls head over heels. Before she can get around to explaining her true nature and enquire about how her newly beloved would feel about being a parent, they are both drawn into a new and concerted effort to hunt down the local monster - Sheshen herself. Hijinks, of course, ensue.

The thing that immediately captured me when I started reading was how well the narration captured Shesheshen's fundamental inhumanity while still making her layered, complex, and intelligent. Her visceral emotional reactions are shaped by her biological nature as a predator, and these emotions lead to distinctly inhuman values and morals - Shesheshen places no intrinsic value on human lives and feels no compunctions whatsoever about eating sentient people. Her love and lust are consumptive in nature, and she romanticizes this. The fact that she cannot have her cake and eat it too is something she has difficulty dealing with. But she's also capable of a great deal of sympathy and empathy for specific humans, and the love she has for the father she ate causes her to care a great deal about consent - she doesn't want to consume out of love someone who doesn't want to be consumed.

In addition to her psychology, Shesheshen's physiology is also excellently inhuman and conveyed in great visceral detail, and the way her body functions is very interesting. My favorite parts of the book are the introduction and the denouement, because these are the areas where her psychology and physiology receive the most undivided attention. They aren't ignored throughout the rest of the book by any means, but they take a backseat to the plot, which is why I feel a bit conflicted about the book as a whole. I was really enjoying the in-depth character study of the introduction, and would've really liked to have the whole book be in that vein.

The plot, to be clear is not bad - it's honestly quite good, and it delves heavily into themes of generational and familial trauma, self-sacrifice, the normalization and romanticization of profound harm, and the difficulty of growth and self-actualization, all while being fairly entertaining and well-executed as a story. I think its themes were a bit heavy-handed in places, and I think some of its exploration was hobbled and flattened by the book's queernorm setting, but I won't relitigate that old argument here. It was suitably gripping and solidly entertaining.

I think the central relationship was solid and compelling, though again, I would've liked it more if the whole book had been focused on a deep exploration of their characters and dynamics. There's a lot of rich ground to the basic premise of "monster falls in love with human, wants to express that love in a way that is actively dangerous/horrifying to the human, doesn't know how to talk about it", and the story layers additional complexities onto that dynamic that are very compelling, but for as much of that interesting ground that the book explored, it left plenty more untouched. One detail that I did find both novel and enjoyable is that both the love interest Homily and Shesheshen herself are all but explicitly sex-averse asexuals by human standards, which is something I have not encountered in a lot of media. The exploration of that experience is not particularly deep because, again, queernorm, but it is present and it was compelling.

This was a really unique and compelling read, though, and I expect it to be one that stays with me. Given my own interest in body horror and inhumanity (shameless plug for Memoirs of a Flesh Eater in the notes), I wouldn't be surprised to see some influences from this book in my own writing going forward.

On the whole, I definitely enjoyed this book and would definitely recommend it, but not without a few warnings. Body horror is a constant element in this book; Shesheshen's shapeshifting is purposely off-putting, and she eats people. This is described in substantial detail. Also, there is a lot of parental and familial abuse depicted, much more than you would expect from the basic premise, so go in prepared. On the other hand, though, if you're looking for a true gothic horror tragic toxic doomed romance or a heavy character study that really plumbs the depths of an inhuman psyche, you will probably be frustrated by how close it comes to being that without actually being that.

[blakeswritingimagines]

Yandere Hanzo Going Feral

He is very protective and obsessive. His focus is entirely on the person he has feelings for. He watches your every movement, he monitors your safety, and he makes it known that you’re his. He keeps a close eye on everyone who tries to get close to you, and he lets them know that if they so much as look at his partner in the wrong way, they’ll regret it.

He is intense, loyal, and unyielding in his devotion. He will do anything to protect you, including resorting to violence if necessary. He is highly possessive and will not tolerate anyone threatening your safety. In his eyes, you belong to him, and he will go to extremes to keep you safe and happy.

When feral, he is very territorial. He can exhibit protective and dominant behaviors, like standing between you and anyone else or placing his hand around your waist or behind your neck to guide you.

He can growl, and his tone can turn possessive and dominant with a hint of control. He might also display possessiveness, like touching, marking, or claiming you as his.

Overall, when feral, he becomes more animalistic, his desires and instincts are heightened, and he becomes more primal and protective, making it clear that you belong to him and he will do whatever it takes to keep you safe and close.

When he is in such a state, his focus is on you and you alone. He will be hyper-aware of your presence and every move or reaction you make. He may become more possessive, even going as far as to physically block others from getting too close to you. If someone were to touch you in a way he disapproved of, he would become aggressive and territorial, growling and making it clear that you’re off limits.

He also becomes very protective of you. He will watch over you, and monitor your safety and wellbeing, making sure no harm comes to you. If he senses any threat to your safety, he will immediately act, whether it be through violence or other aggressive means, to ensure your protection. His focus is solely on keeping you safe and unharmed.

He could also have a slight unhinged behavior, with intense and wild eyes, and gritted teeth, growling when someone tries to take you away from him. He might make direct threats towards anyone who challenges his claim over you.

He is more likely to act on impulse and instinct rather than rationality, making him potentially dangerous and unpredictable. He could also act more primal and animalistic, like baring his teeth or clenching his fists in anger if someone threatens you or tries to take you from him.

Overall, a feral Hanzo can be intense, possessive, and protective. He is hyper-focused on you and everything pertaining to your well-being. He is determined to keep you safe and will not stand for anyone putting you in harm's way. His primal instincts come to the forefront and he becomes unapologetically possessive and dominant as he guards what is his.

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

How JJK Characters Love (As Told By Tarot)

tags: gn!reader, tarot, headcanons a/n: it was only a matter of time i decided to drop another tarot headcanons post. the last one i did was in march, i think? and the last time i did one for jjk was way back in 2021. so i figured i might as well drop another one before the year ends for the nanami, toji, gojou, getou and choso hoes. deck: prisma visions tarot & true black tarot

kento

king of swords, the high priestess, ace of wands, ace of swords

is a love a feeling or love a choice? that's a loaded question with many a subjective answer. if one to ask kento, he would likely answer the latter. with an occupation as dangerous as his own, it has to be. choosing to be so intimate with another is a choice one cannot take lightly. he can say with confidence that loving is you is a choice he doesn't regret in the slightest. kento's love is one that is honest, decisive and a love that seeks to know every part of you. there's a soft innocence to his love as he seeks to be someone you see as more than just 'the boyfriend'. he's your friend, your lover and your peace just as you are to him. you're partners. there isn't more that he could ask for than that. just as he seeks to know the beautiful, ugly and unknown parts of your person, he will open the door to allow you to view those parts of himself as well. his is a love that is patient and everlasting.

toji

knight of wands, queen of wands, the sun, three of wands

to toji, you're his light. the gentle rays that kiss the earth at dawn and the warm caresses of heat that thaw ice. he's in awe in how you shine, in how the flowers bloom at your very step. fushiguro toji isn't a follower by nature. he leads and that's that. but he'd follow you out of the darkness that cloaks his life and into the luminescent world you wish to bring him into. love doesn't come easy to this man. whatever he wishes to hold close to his chest inevitably seems to be torn away from him by a force twice as strongー so he'll hold onto you that much tighter. his love can be rough from his scars and callouses, brash and clumsy from his words, but toji is a passionate lover all the same. moving forward and looking to the future is one of toji's best strengths; he looks to his future with you with warmth he hasn't felt in a long time.

satoru

the star, three of cups, the fool, eight of wands

there's an unspoken loneliness to being the strongest, to being the one everyone has come to expect the superb. it's not a surprise, it's the standard. as such, love like this is unexplored territory for the strongest sorcerer. love is vulnerability, love is embracing both the known and unknown factors and it's allowing yourself to be connected in a way he normally wouldn't. he doesn't have to be the gojou satoru the strongest with you and that fills him with more joy than he'd expect when this is the life that has been engraved into him the moment he opened those six eyes of his. let the chalices of love be raised; let the water in them spill over and spill over more onto the green earth in a raucous revel all can bear witness to. the string that connects you doesn't have to be red, satoru will paint it in your own colors as they keep you joined through the times good and bad. when he falls, he falls and he isn't scared of the drop. he knows he'll stick the landing.

suguru

seven of cups, ace of swords, nine of cups, five of wands

suguru has a dream. a grandiose dream that many may deem impossible but it is a dream that pierces the essence of his very being. and it's a world suguru wants you to be a part of. a utopia that you can live a precious life that isn't constantly under threat by the impure majority he seeks to rid the earth of. it doesn't matter if your ideals are in direct conflict with his ownー suguru would rather hurt you in the short term if it means giving you a beautiful future in the long. you're pure in his eyes, pure and precious and he will reshape the world into something fitting for someone such as yourself. you'll want for nothing with suguru, he's a generous lover. he seeks to spoil that who he loves and he's got the passion to back up his flowery words. your cup will never go empty, you'll never know hunger and danger is something that will never come to your person.

choso

page of chalices, six of swords, the empress, ace of pentacles

choso knows loss and has experienced tragedy first handー that loss is what taught him how to cherish what he has. there's nothing more important to him than family and you're part of his. his love is one that's quiet but it resonates through your entire being because it's all in the little details. off hand comments about things you like, the way your eyes linger on things you want. choso notices it all and acts accordingly. words aren't this man's forte, so he makes sure you know how he feels through all of his actions. choso loves freely and easily, giving every part of himself to you just as he does for anyone he cares about. he doesn't have much to give beyond himself and the small but precious family he has. you won't find a more dedicated lover than this one right here when he embarks on such a journey.